


Furs and Flannels

by asilentherald



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Protective Arthur, Sharing Body Heat, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asilentherald/pseuds/asilentherald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin turns up nearly frozen after a fight with him, Arthur takes it upon himself to make sure Merlin recovers, and to make it up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Furs and Flannels

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as it's FREEZING where I am right now, I figured today was as good a day as any to post this. Winter-themed fics are just such fun to write :) 
> 
> For the sake of this fic, we're going to pretend Morgana's still around and good and Uther never went mad, five years into the canon timeline. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. He had no _damn_ idea where the idiot was, only that he wasn’t where he needed to be – which was preparing Arthur for a Very Important Meeting with the king and his council. Arthur stormed down the halls of the citadel, pulling random servants aside as he went, demanding Merlin’s whereabouts, but no one seemed to know.

“He never came by for your breakfast, sire,” the cook said when he got down to the kitchens. “Quite unusual. I didn’t mind the quiet meself, but I thought it odd.”

Arthur’s stomach jolted. _Odd indeed_. He thanked the cook quickly and made for Gaius’s chambers.

“Arthur! Thank goodness,” Gwen exclaimed, materializing at the end of a hallway. He barely avoided barreling into her.

“Where’s Merlin?” he asked.

“With Gaius. He says he’ll probably be alright, but it was terribly cold out last night and the snow—”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur interrupted. Gwen’s mouth shut sharply.

“The knights found him in the woods while on patrol this morning, sire,” she explained, drawing herself up to full height. She seemed to glare at him under the well-practiced layer of respect. Arthur cringed. “He was half-frozen. It was a good thing it started snowing before he passed out, or else the knights mightn’t have noticed the odd hole in the snow bank.”

“Merlin,” Arthur growled. He grabbed at his hair angrily, but it did nothing to quell the now persistent jolt in his gut.  

“Arthur, don’t. He needs—”

“Not now, Guinevere!”

He stormed away, ignoring the fact he’d regret yelling at Gwen later. Nothing would stand in his way between him and Gaius’s chambers. When he threw the door open, ready to demand some kind of explanation, and he caught sight of his knights gathered rather mournfully around Merlin’s frail, rather blue-looking body on Gaius’s table, Arthur felt like something inside him died. He shut his mouth and had to lean against the doorjamb to keep from falling. He couldn’t take his eyes off Merlin’s purple fingers and the stark blackness on the tips of his ears. His lips were deep purple, too.

But there was a little color in his face, just enough to convince Arthur he was breathing – there really wasn’t any other sign, even if he watched his chest closely. He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he noticed this.

“Sire,” Leon said. He stepped forward and bowed slightly, followed by the other knights. Gaius slowly stood upright and turned around.

“Sire,” he said, inclining his head.

“What happened, Gaius?” Arthur asked, taking a step toward the table before looking back down at Merlin. He was stiller than the air in the room. Arthur folded his hands behind his back to keep from fidgeting. “Is he hurt?”

“It appears he was attacked, my lord. His jacket and scarf were gone when we found him,” Leon supplies.

“But was he hurt?” Arthur pressed.

“I cannot feel any breaks or obvious tears or bruises,” Gaius said. He made for the waning fire. “We must keep him warm. Until he starts to shiver we cannot say he is on the path to recovery.”

“He will, though. Won’t he?” Leon asked, frowning. “We’ve had knights end up like this before.”

“Merlin is far from a knight, Sir Leon. At very least he lacks the physical bulk that would keep him warm,” Gaius said. Leon seemed to shrink a fraction. “If you would be so kind – move the table closer to the fire.”

“No,” Arthur interrupted. Gaius looked at him like he was mad.

“He must stay warm, Arthur.”

“I know – your workroom isn’t exactly the warmest place in the castle,” he said, unable to stop the words, now that they were coming out. “Bring Merlin to my chambers. He’ll be far warmer and more comfortable there.”

Leon was the only knight who didn’t hesitate to obey Arthur. He thanked him silently. The other knights quickly followed. Leon scooped Merlin up in his arms.

“Careful,” Arthur said more sharply than he intended. If Leon gave him a slightly softer look than usual, Arthur resolutely ignored it. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Gaius waited until Leon and the knights were gone from the room to approach Arthur. He wrung his hands as he took slow, thoughtful steps.

“It was my fault,” Arthur blurted. “I shouted at him last night. He took off. Said he needed to clear his head. I didn’t – I didn’t think he’d be so _stupid_ —”

“Forgive me, sire, but you reprimand Merlin for the smallest matters more often than you speak calmly to him,” Gaius said. Arthur didn’t miss the coolness in his voice. He sounded very much like Gwen. “Merlin has learned quite well to let unkind words roll off him.”

“It was about the magic, alright?” Arthur hissed. Gaius blanched. Arthur dragged a chair over for him. Gaius quickly collapsed into it. “I’ve known for a long time, Gaius. Merlin knows I know. We talked about it ages ago.”

“No harm will come to him?”

“No,” he said vehemently.

He’d promised Merlin, once the initial hurt and anger passed, he’d never let the flames of the pyre or the hangman’s noose near him so long as he was around to do something about it. Merlin had laughed and said he’d have liked to see the king try and burn or hang him. Arthur hadn’t found it very funny. He’d cuffed Merlin over the head instead, trying for annoyed, but Merlin’s smile told him it’d come out _affectionate_. Arthur had quickly thrown a beaming Merlin out of his chambers with a loud scoff.

Merlin’s smile had been burned into Arthur’s eyelids. He just couldn’t seem to dredge it up now, of all times.

“Arthur?” Gaius said faintly.

“Sorry. No harm will come to him,” he repeated. “I swear it.”

“What were you arguing about, if I may ask, sire?”

Arthur’s face started to burn.

“His chores. Whether he should use magic to do them,” Arthur muttered. He shut his eyes, angling away from Gaius. “I told him he shouldn’t, but Merlin said I worked him harder than a dead horse, and then there was quite a lot of shouting and door slamming. I’ve already forgotten most of it.”

Arthur stood up brusquely.

“We ought to go to him,” he said.

They walked in silence to Arthur’s room, where only Leon remained. Merlin was laid out on the bed with one of Arthur’s blankets tucked neatly around him.

“Let my father know I’ll be late to the meeting,” said Arthur. Leon nodded and swept out of the room.

“Help me remove his clothes,” Gaius said, overtaking Arthur when he stopped short.

“His clothes?”

“They’re cold and wet from the snow,” Gaius said, clumsily raising Merlin upright. Arthur hurried forward and did his best not to think while he slipped Merlin’s shirt off. He almost had to shut his eyes when he unlaced Merlin’s trousers and dragged them off him gently. Gaius returned to the bed with several more blankets. “Get these around him, sire. He must stay warm at all costs.”

“Of course,” Arthur murmured. He started piling them on and around Merlin until all he could see was Merlin’s pale face. Arthur touched the back of his hand to the end of Merlin’s nose. He recoiled when he felt how utterly _cold_ he was.

“He’s frozen.”

“Indeed,” Gaius said. Arthur looked up at the sound of a fire crackling.

“I’ll stay with him,” Arthur said. “You have your rounds to perform.”

“Send a message if there are any changes, or if he doesn’t begin to shiver within the hour,” said Gaius. He seemed quite reluctant to leave, but Arthur knew he couldn’t afford to stay, not with the minor epidemic of sweating sickness overtaking the lower town. Arthur turned away while Gaius checked Merlin over once more. Gaius hardly looked at Arthur as he left and shut the door silently behind him.

Arthur finally exhaled again.

He looked back at Merlin, swathed in Arthur’s best furs and flannel.

“Idiot,” he scowled. He stalked up to the side of the bed. Merlin’s face had shifted toward the warmth. “I don’t know why I bother with you. You went for a walk in the middle of winter, _and_ you got yourself robbed! Have you learned nothing all these years?”

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at Merlin. He was perfectly still.

“I ought to fire you,” he said sourly.

Merlin stayed still.

“Why the hell didn’t you use your magic?” Arthur demanded. “If you were trying to prove a bloody point – you did. You proved you’re totally hopeless without magic, which isn’t a good thing in Camelot.”

Merlin sank a little lower in the furs.

“I don’t know why you’re still here.”

He inhaled sharply when Merlin’s head lolled to the side.

“Merlin?”

He carefully pushed the fur away and rolled Merlin’s head back into position. His cheek was still cold as ice. Arthur shivered at the contact.

“Merlin,” he said, glaring at Merlin. No response. “Fine.”

Arthur stood up and took two steps away before he heard a very faint moan. The crackling fire might’ve swallowed it up if Arthur hadn’t been listening for it. He spun around. Merlin was just as he’d left him, but his lips were slightly parted – still very much purplish, though.

He’d been on campaign in the winter. He knew the best way to warm a frozen man was to share body heat. The idea of doing that for Merlin increasingly seemed like his only option, since he just didn’t seem to be recovering on his own, and the jolt in his stomach just wouldn’t let him be. The idea of lying _with_ Merlin in nothing but his smalls, buried under the blankets, drowning in their collective warmth while the fire roared – that was a something that made Arthur’s heart jump into his throat and stay there.

He had no bloody idea why. This was _Merlin_ , who never actually went to the tavern, who came into Arthur’s chambers the other day with a shivering stray cat bundled up in his jacket. Merlin, who would do anything for Arthur, regardless of how much it terrified him. He didn’t have magic to save Merlin; his skills with a sword would be of no help now, but Arthur wasn’t going to let that stop him.

He took long steps back toward the bed, divesting his clothes as he went, before climbing on and carefully slipping into Merlin’s bundle of blankets. Arthur took a breath to steady himself, but it didn’t help; the air smelled like Merlin, only not quite enough. The winter had stolen some of that away. Merlin shifted, edging toward Arthur. He gingerly brought his arm around Merlin’s waist and tucked a leg between Merlin’s, slotting his body around him. He hissed at how cold he felt, but he refused to pull away. Arthur tucked his nose behind Merlin’s ear; his hair tickled him, but it smelled more like _Merlin_ , the way Arthur’s bed smelled when Merlin rolled about in an effort to make it up properly. He shuddered and drew Merlin closer, his skin cold on Arthur.

“Idiot,” he muttered, nestling closer. He felt like it was the only word he knew. It was the only word that could appropriately describe his irritation, really.

Arthur shut his eyes. He knew there was a meeting somewhere waiting for him, but somehow, this seemed much more important. The king could wait.

* * *

Arthur was snoring lightly when Merlin started to shake. Arthur felt his muscles contract where he lay in Arthur’s arms.

“Merlin?” Arthur said suddenly. His eyes were still screwed shut, but he looked less blue. The shaking intensified. Arthur did the only thing he could imagine: he wrapped himself more securely around Merlin. “That’s it, shake like a bloody leaf. Get warm and get better so I can tell you off for being a cabbagehead.”

He took a deep, shaky breath. Arthur felt Merlin curl in on himself, hugging his arms. Arthur held him more tightly. Merlin’s hands grasped blindly until they found Arthur. He tucked the tips of his fingers under his palm.

“Oh, for the love of—”

Arthur took Merlin’s hand and threaded their fingers together. He rearranged them just enough so they could both fit together comfortably. Merlin’s shaking became increasingly intense, but Arthur could feel the sweat slowly breaking out on his skin. It was a good sign. Arthur kept on clinging to him, absently running a soothing hand along Merlin’s arm.

He half expected Leon – or worse, a different knight – to come in with a message from the king, ordering Arthur to the council chambers. No one ever came.

* * *

By the time Merlin’s shaking subsided and he’d settled into Arthur’s shoulder, his nose cold on Arthur’s collarbone, it was close to lunch. A soft knock came at the door.

“Enter,” he said as quietly as possible.

Gwen slipped into the room bearing a tray full of food and two cups of something warm and steaming. She quietly crossed the room and placed the tray on the table before covering it up with a cloth napkin. She brought one of the steaming cups with her to the bed.

“How is he?” she asked, worrying her lip as she looked at Merlin, even though only the crown of his head was visible above the blankets.

“Getting there,” Arthur replied. He jerked when Merlin gave a particularly intense shiver.

“It’s very kind of you to do this, my lord,” Gwen said. She handed Arthur the drink. He sat up and pulled away just enough from Merlin to nearly inhale the warm cider.

“He’s an idiot, especially for going out there in the first place, but I wasn’t about to let him die,” said Arthur. He balanced the cup in a fold of the blankets.

“He might’ve recovered just fine in Gaius’s chambers,” Gwen said. She looked at him slyly. Arthur rolled his eyes, but she didn’t seem to buy it. He sighed.

“Gaius had work to do. I’m helping out. Is that so hard to believe, Guinevere?”

She didn’t even rise to Arthur’s bait, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Your father wasn’t terribly pleased to hear you were feeling unwell,” Gwen continued.

“What?”

“That’s what Sir Leon told him,” said Gwen.

_That explains a lot_ , he thought with a huff. Gwen smiled at him sympathetically.

Merlin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, shifting under the covers. Arthur felt him tuck more securely into Arthur’s arms. He looked away from Gwen and willed his face to remain in control. Gwen was biting her lip, clearly trying not to smile when he looked back.

“I should go. Morgana is waiting for me,” said Gwen, standing.

“Yes. Thank you, Guinevere,” he said gruffly. She took the cup from him and placed it by the tray on the table.

“Sire? It really is good of you to take care of him like this,” she said, hovering by the doorway. “Merlin works terribly hard and often doesn’t take care of himself. I try to keep tabs on him but he’s always going by so quickly – it’s hard. He doesn’t make it easy for the rest of us who don’t want to see him unwell.”

Arthur tried hard not to scoff and say, _you could say that again._

“He’d do the same for me.”

_And a thousand times over_ , he added. Gwen seemed to hear him anyway. She curtsied and bowed out of the room.

Arthur sighed and slid back under the covers. Merlin’s hands were warmer now, tangled a little more loosely in Arthur’s, one resting on Arthur’s stomach. Arthur shivered when Merlin’s fingers seemed to trace and smooth down the hair there, his skin more sensitive and ticklish than he’d ever admit.

“You’re terrible at this, you know,” Arthur murmured. Merlin shifted and Arthur got a mouthful of his hair. He tasted like the earth. With his free hand he pushed Merlin’s hair out of the way.

“You should’ve taken a horse at least. Maybe you could’ve gotten away from whoever attacked you.”

Arthur’s gut twisted at the thought of who they were and how they managed to overpower his magical manservant.

“I’ll find them. They’ll be strung up for what they did.”

Merlin snuffled and pulled Arthur even closer to him, their bodies flush from chest to hip. If Arthur had been experiencing any, er, _discomfort_ before, just by proximity to Merlin like this, it just intensified tenfold. He held back a whimper as Merlin moved and rubbed against him. Arthur dropped his head back on the pillow and shut his eyes.

At this point, he really didn’t care what it meant that he was this aroused just from essentially cuddling with Merlin. He just _was_ , and it made sense, in light of every other confusing thoughts and feelings he’d been having since he learned of Merlin’s magic and everything Merlin had done for him in the past.

Then there was the worry that burned constantly in his gut – all the talk of destiny only made Arthur wonder if that was really the only reason Merlin put up with him. It made Arthur mad and scared – that was clear enough, given his ridiculously extreme reaction to a very simple question of using magic for chores – and he didn’t want to let Merlin go as a friend in order to see him as the powerful protector he was. He didn’t want to let go of Merlin at all, really, and that made things, things previously buried deep and professionally ignored, things he certainly didn’t want to confront, stir hotly and uncomfortably below his stomach.

Arthur breathed in and received a noseful of Merlin. It relaxed him instantly, warding off all the dark thoughts that threatened to cover him in the quiet of the room.

He fell asleep like that, with Merlin lying on him and Arthur hand still tangled in Merlin’s hair. It was warm and comfortable even for Arthur, who usually found his bed far too large in the winter to house the appropriate amount of warmth for him alone. It was easy to lie there with him and wait for Merlin’s shaking to subside and his breathing to even out.

So he did.

* * *

Arthur woke when Merlin started moving. He could feel the panic and confusion in his flailing limbs. It made Arthur laugh.

“Stop it,” he mumbled.

“Arthur!” Merlin explained. “What the hell? Why are—”

“You turned up colder than an icicle this morning, Merlin,” Arthur said blearily. He blinked a few times and Merlin’s face came in to focus.

“Oh.”

“What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

“I – I’m a little distracted by the fact that we’re both almost naked in your bed,” he blinked. Arthur blushed furiously.

“It’s standard practice for warming up a hypothermic, _Mer_ lin. Have you learned nothing from Gaius?”

“Hey!” he said weakly. “Ugh. I feel like shit.”

“You look it, too.”

It wasn’t a lie. He was still purplish, though his lips regained their usual color. Arthur couldn’t quite stop staring at them now.

“We had a row,” Merlin said slowly, “and then I went out for a walk, and some bandits knocked me out. Now I’m here.”

“The knights found you on patrol this morning.”

“Good thing,” he murmured.

“Indeed,” Arthur said, sounding sourer than he intended. Merlin shivered. “For the love – get back under the covers, Merlin, before you freeze again.”

“I’m f-fine!”

Arthur gave him a look.

“ _Now_ , Merlin.”

Merlin hurried back into the blankets, though not immediately into the pocket of Arthur’s arms. He hauled him up against him anyway, ignoring Merlin’s squawks of protest.

“Why are you doing this?” Merlin asked after a long period of silence.

Arthur shrugged.

“Didn’t want you to die, I suppose,” he said. Merlin twisted and looked up at him with wide, tired eyes.

“Really?”

“ _Yes_ , really. I’d have a hard time finding an equally incompetent manservant, especially this time of year.”

“Of course.”

Arthur paused. He briefly considered telling Merlin off, but it didn’t feel right. He just didn’t have the energy for it.

“I’m sorry. For all this,” said Arthur. Merlin looked properly shocked now, lips parted as though he wanted to speak but had nothing to say. “I work you far too hard. You can use your magic for your chores if you want. You can use it whenever, however you see fit. I don’t bloody care. I just – I hate being the reason you ended up like this.”

“Arthur….”

“That’s all I’m saying.”

“Reached your emotional quota for the day, sire?” he asked dryly.

“Yes. Go back to sleep.”

“Arthur?”

“What now?”

“Thanks. For apologizing.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

* * *

Naturally, it all went to hell a little while later, since Arthur’s discomfort didn’t exactly lessen when Merlin woke and actually started shifting about.

Arthur didn’t mean to moan, but Merlin bloody _moved_ , and his arse – gods above, that _arse_ – brushed against Arthur’s hard length. Merlin stopped moving.

“Uh.”

“It’s nothing,” Arthur declared.

“Right.”

“Merlin.”

“It’s okay if you’re… you know. It’s normal. We’re just, y’know, lying here, almost naked, and it’s warm and—”

“Merlin,” Arthur gritted out. “Shut up now.”

“Yes, sire,” Merlin giggled.

“Good to hear you’re feeling better,” he said flatly.

“Getting there,” he said with a bright smile. “Haven’t you got a meeting this afternoon?”

“Leon told everyone I’m not feeling well today,” Arthur said with a sigh. He was half-focused on the conversation; the rest of his attention was at willing his boner into nonexistence.

“So we’re just gonna… stay in bed all day? Without anyone to disturb us?”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “Gaius already came by and said you’ll be fine.”

Merlin’s cheeks regained a little color at that. Arthur smirked. Merlin glared at him and – _damn it_ , he ground back again, and all of Arthur’s efforts were totally reversed.

“That’s – that’s _highly_ inappropriate behavior, Merlin,” he gasped. Blood rushed south quickly enough to leave him a little lightheaded. Merlin looked back at him smugly through his eyelashes.

“Sorry, _sire_ ,” Merlin said. Arthur didn’t miss the hitch in his voice.

“I ought to throw you in the stocks for that,” Arthur said, eyes narrowing.

“I’d just freeze again. What good would that do?”

“I’ll find a more suitable punishment for you then,” Arthur said. Merlin paused.

“Are you going to cuddle me into submission, Arthur?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you just love that,” he said.

“I don’t know, _sire_ , you seem to be enjoying yourself, too,” Merlin grinned.

“Please, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur scoffed. “Like you said. It’s a human reaction.”

“Right.”

“Now shut up before I start kicking you.”

“Whatever you say, Arthur.”

He was just starting to relax when he felt Merlin’s cold fingers brush up against his side and Arthur bloody _jumped_.

“Fuck! Merlin!”

He laughed happily up at Arthur, rolling into the space where Arthur’s head had been. Arthur scowled at him.

“Your _face_!” he said.

“Merlin,” he growled.

“Gods above, I can’t breathe,” he cackled, his face finally regaining its color as he laughed. Arthur didn’t particularly care at the moment. He threw himself down on top of Merlin, covering him completely with his body, and let all his weight rest on him. Merlin gasped.

“What were you saying about not breathing, _Mer_ lin?”

“Fuck – Arthur—”

Merlin squirmed, poking at Arthur and trying to get him to move, but the squirming only made Arthur’s _discomfort_ more prominent. He realized a moment too late that he was prodding Merlin in the thigh – only when his cock twitched at Merlin attempting to get Arthur to move by pinching him hard did Merlin finally stop moving.

“Uh.”

“Merlin.”

“I—”

“Don’t say a word.”

“I won’t.”

Arthur attempted to move, but when he did, a tiny groan escaped Merlin’s lips. He shifted slightly and found that Merlin was just as hard as Arthur was. Arthur looked down at the bulge in Merlin’s smalls, mesmerized. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching and cupping it in his hand, relishing in its weight. His cock jumped in response. Merlin groaned again. His head hit the pillow.

“Well you’re warm down here, that’s for sure,” Arthur said hoarsely.

“I – I can warm myself up with magic now, sire, if you want to return to your duties.”

Arthur pulled his hand back as though he’d been burned. After a minute of studying Merlin’s averted gaze and flushed cheeks, he said,

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re still exhausted. Your magic’s hardly going to be much use now. No. I – I’m offering my assistance, Merlin. You’re not obligated to accept my offer by any means but—”

“What assistance?” Merlin said, looking at Arthur suddenly, his eyes wide and his pupils blown.

“There are quicker ways of warming a cold man up than waiting around by the fire,” said Arthur slowly. He doesn’t know why his heart is hammering, but it is, as if anything Merlin could say or do could make him _nervous_.

“Don’t. Please, don’t, unless you—”

Merlin paused to swallow slowly. Arthur watched with a tight throat as his eyes started to water.

“I’m fonder of you than I’ve wanted to admit,” Arthur heard himself say.

“What?”

“The – the magic,” he stumbled. “I saw everything you’d done, how much you cared, how much you’ve helped me, and I saw just how much I really needed you and wanted you at my side. I don’t want you to change, Merlin. If you use magic to clean my armor, so be it. I just don’t want to see you leave like that again.”

He took a breath, his skin burning under Merlin’s gaze.

“I’m impressed. That’s the second time today you’ve actually used clear communication,” Merlin said.

Arthur glared at him.

“I’m not going to change,” he said softly. “I know you’d get bored.”

“I – no. I prefer you as you are.”

“You… prefer me?” Merlin repeated. Arthur felt his face heat up uncontrollably. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“I bloody love you, you idiot!” Arthur burst. Merlin blinked slowly. His words caught up to him. Arthur stammered, considering all the excuses he could make up, but the look in Merlin’s eyes told him it was better to just go with it. “I – I do. I rather do.”

Arthur started to back away, sitting up.

“I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said sharply. He sat up with difficulty, still partly trapped under Arthur’s weight. Propped up on his arm he was almost chest-to-chest with Arthur. “You’re kind of the idiot here.”

“ _Me_?”

“I’ve loved you for the last five years of our lives,” Merlin replied. He placed a shaking hand on Arthur’s knee. “And it’s got nothing to do with destiny or fate or anything like that. I just… do. Love you, that is.”

“Oh,” Arthur blinked.

“You’re the one who took ages to figure your shit out,” he said, rolling his eyes. Arthur felt Merlin’s hand, definitely less cold now, on his cheek, turning his face toward him. Arthur found himself leaning into Merlin’s palm, his lips grazing his skin. Merlin smiled at him. “I’ll take you up on that offer, my lord, if it still stands.”

Arthur started to smile. It’d taken so long for him to realize what he wanted, and suddenly he could have it – it was too much to take in at once. It was going to take him a moment—

Merlin cupped his face and brought him down to meet his smiling, waiting lips.

“Impatient,” Arthur smiled.

“Shut up,” Merlin murmured. He kissed Arthur soundly, dragging him back onto the bed. Everything fell away the moment Merlin’s lips met Arthur’s. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced, better than kissing Gwen or any of the other suitors he had in the past, or even the knights he’d had on dark nights on campaign. No. Merlin was a challenge, but he was clearly willing to work and fight with Arthur in the best way possible.

He tasted _incredible_. Arthur could easily get drunk on the sensation alone.

The furs and flannel settled around and on top of them. Merlin relaxed in the growing heat, becoming soft and pliant under Arthur. Arthur shut his eyes and let Merlin do whatever he wished as his body slowly woke and his muscles moved with Arthur’s.

“We should do this,” Merlin said between stretches of kissing, “every time we have a row.”

“We’d never get anything done,” Arthur laughed.

“Is that so bad? I like this arrangement.”

Arthur slid his lips off Merlin’s mouth and kissed the edge of his jaw, just under Merlin’s ear. He positively keened at that.

“I think we can stay here a little while longer.”

“Good,” Merlin gasped. He laughed. “Good.”

Merlin’s body was still rather cold. Arthur had a fair amount of work to do to keep his promise. Arthur felt Merlin kiss the crown of his head – then he began to make his way down, relishing in the heave and sigh of Merlin’s chest, very much alive.


End file.
